You Remind Me of the Man
by Svendances
Summary: One Shot. After seeing Steph scorned by Morelli for the last time, the Merry Men, lead by Vince, take actions into their own hands... in an unusual way... Read on to find out how they convince him to stay away from her. Definitely not Morelli friendly.
1. Chapter 1

_Don't own the characters or the world. Just playing around with them for amusement. _

_This story is dedicated to Two Guns and a Knife who dumped the mental image in my head. The title is in homage to The Atomic Fireballs' "The Man with the Hex" and was chosen by my best friend/ sometimes beta Shreek. So you're probably wondering what, of all this, is actually mine? Well, all the words you find below I put together. And the overall story line. _

_No animals were harmed in the making of this story._

**You Remind Me Of The Man**

Lester and Bobby sat in their black SUV with the tinted windows staring in awe through their binoculars at the scene unfolding down the street. Bob, usually the run and sniff everything in sight, ADD/ memory of a goldfish type dog, sat on his rump on the front porch staring solemnly at his owner. Dressed only in boxers and one sock, Joseph Morelli frolicked – that is the only word they could think of to describe his actions – in the front garden. He paused at a rose bush to sniff, scurrying backwards when a thorn scraped his face. His body stiffened and he began yelling wordlessly at the bush, performing predatory advances coupled with not so predatory retreats.

"I can't believe it," Lester murmured, never once lowering his binoculars as the big orange dog yawned and gave two sharp barks.

"It really worked," Bobby agreed. "Vince actually did it."

"We need to stay on his good side from now on," Lester proclaimed. "Or things could get dicey."

*o*

_Flashback:::_

_Stephanie Plum pulled into the Rangeman garage late the previous night, appearing to be in a fit of rage. She'd jumped from her borrowed vehicle – this time Ranger's personal truck – and slammed the door before stomping her way to the elevator. Once there she jabbed angrily at the up button._

_By the time the elevator arrived in the garage to pick her up a small crowd consisting of all Rangemen on deck had gathered around the monitors, their quiet whispers combining to create a dull roar of rumbling voices filling the space._

_"She's heading for the seventh floor," Hal announced noting the button she'd pressed._

_"She looks awful upset," Cal pointed out needlessly._

_"I don't think she should be alone right now," Bobby commented expertly. "She needs to vent."_

_This caused the voices to cease abruptly. Ranger had charged them all with ensuring Steph's well being before he left on a top secret government mission. And while it seemed like a not unreasonable request at the time, they hadn't figured that it would involve dealing with her in this kind of state. After all, things were slow going in the Bond Enforcement world at the moment and they'd usually only seen her this pissed at a skip – generally while covered in garbage. Glances were exchanged around the room as the silently decided what they should do. There would be no leaving it to Ranger today._

_"Stop her when she reaches five," Tank commanded finally, allowing Hank just enough time to override the elevator as she reached the command floor._

_The doors remained closed. The men watched as Steph jabbed at the buttons on the panel for a moment before glaring up at the security camera._

_"What are you doing?" Hal panicked, his gaze going from the monitor to Hank. "You're making her angrier! Let her out!"_

_"We don't have a plan," Hank pointed out. "How are we going to deal with this?"_

_Tank let out a small breath. "A plan would be wasted on Ms. Plum," he explained. "She's unpredictable. The best we can do is return to a somewhat normal work formation and deal with the blows as they come."_

_Hank nodded and waited for the others to scurry back to their cubicles before releasing the elevator doors._

_"I don't want to talk about it," Steph called without moving from her spot. "I don't want your help. I don't want you to fix things. I just need a place to stay where I know I'm free of Morelli."_

_"What happened?" Bobby asked._

_The men cringed at her reaction to the question, noting the way her body tensed, her fists clenched and steam shot out of her ears. "You want to know what happened?" Stephanie asked, a false calm momentarily veiling her anger. "This is what freaking-well happened!" she screamed, pegging a small box into the control room. It hit the back of a monitor and fell to the floor. A second or two passed before Tank cautiously rounded the desk and picked it up. Even more carefully, he lifted the lid and peeked inside._

_There nestled within worn satin pillows was a ring. An old ring with a massive sapphire surrounded by tiny, sparkling diamonds. It took him a moment to grasp what it signified, and when he did he had to physically restrain himself from crushing the tiny box with the ring still inside. The hide of the man._

_They were all grossly aware of the relationship history between Steph, Morelli and Ranger, which meant they knew that Steph had broken things off permanently with the cop months ago. More recently they'd tried to patch things up in order to remain friends. Tonight she was supposed to have been having a few drinks with him, catching up, that sort of thing. Apparently Morelli had other plans._

_As Steph stalked out of the elevator and collapsed in a free chair in the monitor area, Tank passed the ring to Lester who glanced at it with disgust before fairly thrusting it upon Bobby who didn't even bother opening the box before tossing it to Vince._

_"It's his great grandmother's," Steph explained, scrubbing her face. "He spent the entire evening trying to convince me to have one more roll in the hay with him 'for old time's sake.' And when I consistently denied him he shoved the ring box into my hand and yelled, "What the fuck am I supposed to do with this? I want to fucking marry you, Stephanie. When will you realise I'm the only one that will ever have you?"_

_She went silent, her hands still over her face and the guys wondered if she was crying._

_"What did you do?" Bobby asked gently._

_And just like that the hands were gone and she was on her feet, backing back and forth. "I told him no," she said forcefully. "I threw the ring at him and stormed out. Went and got donuts. Called up Mary Lou. Tried to think of things to avoid going home. I knew he'd be waiting for me."_

_"And was he?" Lester prompted._

_Stephanie scoffed. "No, but that was," she gestured to the ring box Vince was still holding. "Left it on my doormat, like no one was going to steal a priceless antique ring."_

_"He needs the sens knocked into him," Tank growled, cracking his neck restlessly. "He needs to learn a lesson."_

_She shook her head, looking tired and worn all of a sudden. "You can't just beat a cop's head in, Tank. He's done nothing to retaliate to."_

_The guys exchanged glances. Each trying to think of ways to get back at the sleazebag. The problem was, if Morelli suddenly disappeared, or was attacked, Steph would automatically assume that it was their doing – and rightly so, probably._

_"I'm going to go upstairs and take a long hot shower."_

_"Good idea," Bobby agreed. "I'll let Ella know you're here. Get some rest."_

_Nodding, she made her way back over to the elevators which were still waiting for her. "Beam me up, Scotty," she called over her shoulder as she stepped inside._

_The minute the doors were closed, vince grabbed a steno pad and pen and started scribbling down three lists. He handed one each to the assembled men._

_"What the hell is this, man?" Lester asked, reading through the items. "If you're having cravings get your own damn food. There is no way I'm getting you cow tongue."_

_"Mine says live chicken," Bobby said, staring at the paper in disbelief._

_"What kind of food are you making that you need a personal item from both Morelli and Bob the dog?" Tank questioned suspiciously._

_"We're not making food," Vince explained. "We're getting back at Morelli."_

_Lester was still looking at his list. "Dude, I'm pretty sure cooking him a meal is not getting back at him, even if it is gross stuff like pig's trotters."_

_"It's called Voodoo, guys," Vince told them. "Get this stuff and meet me in my apartment in half an hour._

_An Hour Later:::_

_"By the power invested in me," Vince called out into the silent room as the mixed smells of raw animal organs, the packaged whole chicken and the scented candles swirled around him. "By the Voodoo Gods."_

_"Are there really Voodoo Gods?" Bobby whispered doubtfully._

_"Shut up!" Hal hissed. "You'll stuff it up!"_

_Tanks droll voice floated from the darkest corner of the room, "It's not gonna work anyway. All this hoo0hah is just baloney."_

_"Tank!" Hal whined. "Don't invoke their wrath!"_

_"So do I will it, so mote it be!" Vince finally yelled over the whispered squabbling._

_"Wait," Lester spoke up as Cal switched the lights back on. "I thought we were doing voodoo. That last bit was more like a wedding crossed with a pagan ritual."_

_"Don't dis the 'doo," Vince warned, dumping the offering into a plastic garbage bag he had on standby. "I've been doing this for a year."_

_"Oh," Bobby said. "Well, I'm convinced. A year is all it takes to master Voodoo Magic."_

_*o*_

"Let's get closer," Bobby suggested, opening his door and hopping out. "The guys back at the office are gonna want a full report."

As they approached Morelli's body – containing Bob's spirit – stopped yelling and turned to face them. Once spotted, there was nothing they could do. Morelli-Bob pranced toward them making what they assumed were happy sounds, though they sounded a bit like whining and moaning, and licked their faces. Bobby and Lester were and once intensely grossed out and amused. Imagine what the neighbours were thinking.

"Good boy!" Lester praised, scratching Morelli-Bob's head and letting out a burst of laughter as his leg started jumping. "You're just an innocent caught in the middle of all this, aren't you?" Lester sympathised. "Come on inside and let's get you a can of dog food." He grinned over at Bobby. "I'm sure Morelli will love waking up with that after taste."

Bobby grinned back, helping him heard Morelli-Bob toward the front porch. "How long is this Voodoo thing supposed to last anyway?" he asked. "Is it like Cinderella's dress and carriage and only lasts till midnight?"

"Dunno," Lester responded. "We'll have to ask Vi-."

He stopped mid word as the big orange dog began to growl. His hackles were raised and his fur stood on end. That's when the barking started. Lester and Bobby could only imagine what colourful language Morelli was trying to spit at them.

"Put a sock in it, Morelli," Bobby snapped. "We're sick of you. Get inside, we've got some stuff to go over."

Still standing at the bottom of the steps, Lester commented, "He looks pretty angry. Do you reckon he knows we did it?" The barking started back up again. "Yeah," Lester answered his own question. "I think he knows."

Morelli-Bob, who had been gleefully licking Lester's face the entire time bent at the waist and delved his face into Lester's crotch sniffing and snuffling. Morelli-Dog's barking ratcheted up a notch as he stumbled down the steps, right in front of the men. Bobby grabbed him by the collar and dragged him snapping and snarling back away before he got any big ideas about testing out his new sharper teeth. He wrenched open the front door as Lester attempted to wrestle Morelli-Bob away from his goods and herd him inside.

"You take Morelli into the living room," Lester called ahead. "I'll feed Bob and lock him in the laundry where he can't do much damage."

The moment Lester forced Morelli-Bob over the threshold he was off like a rocket down the hall and out of sight. Lester let out a curse as he followed, somewhat surprised at the speed Morelli's body was able to rack up. He'd never seen him go so fast. For that matter he'd never seen Bob the Dog go that fast. They really were a lazy pair. Lester felt sorry for the poor dog. Surely there were better owners out there that could take care of him, get him back in shape, teach him some obedience. Maybe a nice family with a couple of energetic kids instead of this dead beat cop who barely moves from his couch when he gets off shift.

He found Morelli-Bob in the dining room, crouched in the far corner with his teeth attempting to gouge into the hard wood surface of the table leg. Lester took in the obvious teeth mark on the other legs around the room with a shake of his head and a heavy sigh. "You need some chew toys, don't you boy?" he commiserated, squatting down next to Morelli-Bob and beginning the delicate process of detaching the grown man with a dog inside away from the table leg before Morelli's teeth snapped out of his head.

"Come on, Bob," Lester coaxed. "You want some food? I bet I can find you something great and unhealthy in the fridge." Morelli-Bob grunted and let go of the table, stood up and lead the way to the kitchen where he sat on the linoleum, staring at the fridge expectantly. As quickly as he could, Lester dumped some dog food in a bowl and topped it off with a half stale donut he found in the cupboard before using it to lure Morelli-Bob down to the laundry.

When he finally made it to the living room Morelli-Dog was perched on the couch facing Bobby who had the dog's head between his hands and was staring him directly in the eye.

"What is this?" Lester asked. "Some kind Medic Mind Trick?"

"You're not funny, dude," Bobby told him, not looking away. "He's seriously in there."

"Exactly," Lester agreed, dropping down on the coffee table beside his partner. "That's why we're here. We're gonna give him an ultimatum. He can't interrupt u-." The dog barked and Lester rolled his eyes. "Real funny, Morelli. Now listen and listen good. You're gonna leave Steph alone. Respect her wishes. In fact, why don't you ask for a transfer. Leave town. Cos if I see your ass anywhere near her again we're gonna do a lot more than switch your body with a dog's."

Bobby quickly grabbed the newspaper from the floor beside him and snatched a marker from his pocket, scribbling something on two separate pages and presenting the pages to the big orange dog in front of them. "Which will it be?" he asked, almost politely.

Lester watched as the dog lifted his paw and hit the one on the left. When Bobby's eyes widened slightly he got too curious and took the pieces of paper from him. The right one read "Ass whooping." The left said "Leave Steph Alone."

"Duuuude," Lester breathed. "The dog can read."

Letting out a chuckle, Bobby agreed, "Yeah, I was doubting the cop had the ability too."

The dog snarled at them and began to bark, now on his feet. The two men followed suit and made their way quickly from the house, Morelli-Dog pursuing them as fast as he could manage on legs he was still getting used to. As they reached the truck Lester's phone rang.

"Steph's headed over to the cop's house," came Hal's voice. "I suggest you clear the area ASAP."

"Done and done," Lester replied, buckling up as Bobby started the engine.

"So did it work?" Hal asked, trying not to sound too eager.

"So well," Lester confirmed. "Watching Morelli frollick around in boxers and one sock while Bob sat sedately on the porch told me it was real, but we double checked just to be sure and gave him a talking to. I don't think he'll be a problem anymore."

*o*

The quiet pressed in around Steph as she entered Morelli's house, her concern growing with each step she took deeper. The front door had not only been left unlocked, but the door was not even closed. As she passed the dining room she expected to either be ambushed by burglars who, having been caught in the act of breaking and entering, would go on the defensive and attack her to ensure their safe getaway, or for Bob to come bound out and pounce on her, licking her face energetically before racing out the still open front door – Steph knew better than to shut herself in the house with potential attackers.

Neither happened.

She checked the living room and kitchen as she passed them, only to find both empty with no signs of struggle. She was sure Morelli had mentioned the night before that he didn't have to work today, it was the preface to his asking her to sleep with him just one more time.

Finally, she reached the back of the house where the laundry room was located and found Bob lying forlornly on the floor, his head resting on his paws and he stared at the laundry door. As she approached, he lifted his head and let out a whine.

"What's up, boy?" she asked, ruffling his fur behind his ears when she crouched down to his level. "Where's Joe?" As if on cue, a loud groan emanated from behind the closed laundry door. It was quickly followed by some retching noises. Steph knocked on the door. "Joe? Is that you?"

"Steph?" Joe's voice was groggy and strained at the same time.

Hesitantly, she tested the handle. When she found it was unlocked she quickly opened it and sucked in a breath at what she saw. Joe was curled on the floor in only his boxers and one sock, both of which looked like they were well beyond the point on needing a wash, with grass stains all over and mud caked to his sock and foot as well as streaked along his arms and legs. His face was covered in something brown and the smell of dog food filled the air. "Are you okay?" she asked him.

"We can't be friends anymore, Cupcake," he uttered, not bothering to open his eyes. "I think it would be best if you left now."

"What did they do to you?" she demanded, at once honoured that they saw the need to defend her and furious that they decided to meddle in her life after she specifically told them not to.

"Nothing," he groaned. "They didn't touch me. Just leave. I'll get a courier to bike any stuff you still have here."

Seeing that it was useless – and probably cruel, given his current state – to argue with him on this, especially since this was, on some level, what she'd wanted in the first place. If Joe couldn't keep his mitts off her, then she really was better off without him in his life at all. Without another word from either of them, she scratched Bob's head once more and left the house, pulling the door closed as she went.

*o*

Bobby an d Lester had just finished explaining what they'd observed at the cop's house when the main control room line rang. Hank checked the caller ID and grimace. "It's Steph," he announced.

Lester snatched the phone up, issuing the standard Rangeman greeting.

"What did you do to Joe?" she asked sternly.

"I didn't do anything," Lester answered almost honestly.

"He looks sick and he just insisted that we shouldn't be friends anymore. What did you do?"

Lester cast around for something that was believable and came up with nothing. "We all went ten rounds on the punching back with his face strapped to it last night. Maybe our ill-intent was sent up into the cosmos and rained down upon him?" he suggested, getting snickers from the guys surrounding him.

"Right," Steph replied, not convinced. "Well, whatever you did, thank you."

"You're... welcome?" Lester asked, uncertainly.

"For sticking up for me," she explained.

"Not a problem, Beautiful," Lester assured her. "You have a good day now." And he hung up, high fiving the guys in his immediate reach. "Score!" he yelled.

_**And They All Lived Happily Ever After...**_

_**But Morelli could never get the taste of dog food out of his mouth**_

* * *

_Thanks for reading. I hope you liked it. Why not let me know in a review?_


	2. Deleted Scene

_When I pitched the idea for this story to my bestie, Shreek, she suggested the title as a line from "The Man with the Hex" by Atomic Fireballs, as I mentioned at the beginning of the story proper. Well, as I started writing, I just kept having the overwhelming urge to have the Merry Men dancing around Vince while singing the song, but couldn't bring myself to actually include it in the story, partly because I didn't want to write out the entire voodoo ritual and had I included this scene I would have had to. So I included it here. I know it doesn't mention the Merry Men singing along, but if you've heard the song you should know that it's kinda hard not to after the first to choruses._

Deleted Scene:

The guys were standing, leaning and sitting all around Vince's apartment when Vince finally entered the room carrying a box of candles. Without acknowledging any of them, he walked straight to the stereo system he kept at the juncture of the open plan living and dining area of his apartment, and hit play. A gravelly voice began singing immediately and Vince moved to the middle of the room to clear the space of furniture, laying out the candles and other items he'd requested the other guys collect.

"Dance," he commanded.

"No way, man," Bobby refused adamantly, shaking his head as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"You want this to work or not?" Vince questioned, kneeling in the centre of the circle the men had formed around the area he'd set up. The guys nodded and murmured their affirmatives. "I need to be in the right mood. Now dance. Tribal style."

He hadn't really been expecting his friends to dance in a circle around him like idiots. And honestly, he didn't need the dancing to get in the mood; the song did that in itself. But it took him a lot less time than usual to reach the right frame of mind to get this done. He took a deep breath and watched the synchronised movements of his friends and workmates making idiots of themselves in his living room. There were heel touches on alternating legs accompanied by arm movements that even musical theatre nuts refused to do. It was all Vince could do to keep from losing his focus and laughing at them.


End file.
